


Part One: A Special Occasion

by freckledfoxes



Series: Potter!Cas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chef!Dean, M/M, potter!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:09:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckledfoxes/pseuds/freckledfoxes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is a potter with his own studio/gallery and Dean is a chef that likes to buy his cookware from Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part One: A Special Occasion

**Author's Note:**

> This is just an idea I've had in my head for a while so here's a little drabble. I may expand on it more on a later date. It is currently unbeta'd.
> 
> **The parts in this series are not being posted in chronological order. I will eventually include dates in the posts, and edit previous posts to include dates.**

Cas pats down the lump of clay he sat on the wheel in front of him, getting it as close to center as he can before actually spinning the wheel. He dips his hands into his bucket of water, presses the foot pedal down slightly, and works his wet hands into the now-spinning clay. He squeezes, bringing the clay up slowly as he pushes his arms in to compress, then presses back down, one hand keeping it centered while he presses the side of the other firmly down. He brings the clay back up a few more times, compressing and centering with skilled ease. His muscles flex with each push and pull. His fingers gather the slip that the friction creates, using it to more easily guide his hands up and down over the clay. 

Cas thinks he might hear the chime of the bells on the shop door, but he ignores it. He’ll be with them shortly, and this way they have a moment to look around in peace.

He sits back and drags his palms over the edge of his bucket before grabbing a sponge and wetting it. He brings his hands back to the clay, presses with the edge of his hand into the center, and creates a small dip. He pools a bit of water there with his sponge before pressing his fingers into it, driving them deep until he’s at just the right thickness at the bottom; about three quarters of an inch, like he’s always done for pieces like this one.

He presses his fingers down, then pulls, keeping his other hand pressed up to the outside of the vague shape of a vessel. He widens it just a couple of inches, three at most, spinning the wheel at a steady pace. he wet his hands and his sponge again, squeezes out a bit of excess water, then set to work again.

Cas brings the walls of the vessel up slowly and carefully, taking care not to work too fast and ruin what he’s already attempted to make three times. Usually his pieces are quick, simple; practice has lent him the ability to pump out 10 cylinders every half hour, bowl about the same. But this piece isn’t for the shop. It’s not even for his gallery. It’s far more special than that.

Cas’s hands move over the clay, bringing it up and out, shaping it into a wide, shallow bowl. He leaves the ridges from his fingers on the outside, but give the inside a pull with one of his rubber ribs and—

"Hey, Cas?"

Cas jumps, startled out of his concentration. His foot and hand jerk simultaneously, rib catching in the clay as it spins wildly out of control. He rips through the side of the bowl and it slumps onto the wheel head. Cas looks down at the clay blob before him, the remnants of an almost-perfect serving dish, and he sighs.

"Oh, shit, Cas! I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have—"

"No, Dean. It’s alright. These things happen all of the time." Cas wipes his hands on his apron and flips off the wheel before turning to face Dean. Cas pauses and his eyes drop to the casserole dish Dean has in his hands; one of Cas’ casserole dishes, to be more specific. 

Dean takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I should have waited. You probably heard me come in at least, huh? I’m sorry. That piece was looking nice.”

"You saw it?" Cas asks him, eyes going back to Dean’s face as his brows knit together.

"Well, uh, yeah. Yeah. I would have said something sooner, but I didn’t want to mess up your mojo. But I guess that kind of didn’t work…"

Cas watches him for a moment before looking back down at the dish in Dean’s hands. “What’s this?”

Dean looks down then, as if suddenly remembering what he’s holding. He clears his throat. “Oh, yeah. I, uh… I brought you something. Kind of a ‘thank you,’ I guess.”

Cas looks up at him again in confusion. “‘Thank you?’ What for?”

Dean smiles a little at that and walks over to the counter, setting the casserole down. “I don’t know. I come in here a lot and I probably bother you but you never kick me out. And I buy your stuff all the time, so I felt like maybe I should make something for you. Put your good work to good use.”

Dean gives Cas one of those smiles that makes Cas pause for a moment. 

Dean swallows and clears his throat again, looking back down at the casserole. “Its, uhm… It’s this dish my mom use to make, before she passed. I mostly only make it for special occasions now, but, I mean, it’s kind of a special occasion.”

Cas walks over to him. “It is?”

"Well, i mean,  _kind of_. Breaking in one of your casserole dishes in my kitchen felt sort of like a big deal. Thought I’d share it with you.”

Cas watches him and suddenly feels a little dizzy.

"Uh… Or… I could go, if you’re busy… and just leave this… uh, here. Sorry, I’m just assuming shit again. I kind of—"

"I’ll go get some plates. and silverware," Cas says, finally able to work his mouth right.

Dean’s face brightens up. “Yeah?”

Cas smiles warmly at Dean and nods. “Yes. I’ll be right back.”

"Okay. Okay, Cas, awesome," Dean says happily, pulling a chair up to the counter and taking the lid off of the casserole dish.

Cas walks to his kitchen, smiling practically from ear to ear.


End file.
